Lost in Hollywood

by Cindy Callaghan

We all laughed.

  ABJ’s brain seemed totally fine, even sharp, this morning.

  Mom interrupted. “Girls, you’ll give her another headache doing your chat back.”

  “It’s okay,” ABJ said. “I haven’t seen Ginger in so long. I love to hear her voice.” She put her hand on mine, indicating she knew which girl was me. “And tell me your name again?” she asked Payton.

  Payton told her and the two went through the basic introductions again. As Mom and Dad slipped out the door, a hand emerged from nowhere and stopped it from slamming behind them.

  Margot appeared, headset on, wire microphone bent to her mouth, and she was listening to an order, “Sí. Sí.” She handed us burritos while she spoke.

  ABJ told us, “Every morning Leo goes out to his car and makes a different kind of breakfast burrito. Margot is helping this week. Have you seen his car? That man is a genius.”

  “Wonder if he can lump space trash,” Grant said, more to himself, his eyes stuck on his game.

  A cell phone rang and Margot said into the wire mic, “Hola.”

  Leo topped off ABJ’s coffee. “I need to check our supplies. I’ll be right back,” he said. Then he added, “I hope your niece has luck at the bank.” The door slammed behind him. He reopened it. “Sorry! It was the wind. I gotta fix this thing.” And he closed it again, more gently that time.

  Margot noted on her iPad what the person on the phone was saying.

  “Your mom won’t have luck at the bank,” ABJ said to Payton and me.

  “What do you mean?” Payton asked.

  “My money isn’t in the bank.”

  “Then where is it?” I asked.

  “Did you spend it all?” Payton asked.

  “Or maybe you gave it away,” I suggested.

  “Or maybe you—”

  “No.” ABJ looked over at Margot, who looked like she was listening to someone on the phone. “I have to tell you a secret.”

  We leaned in to hear.

  “Okay. You see. The money. I hid it,” ABJ said.

  “You hid it?” we asked together.

  She nodded. “That is why I needed you to come out here to help me. I knew your mom and dad wouldn’t believe me, so you . . .” She looked right at me when she said this. “I knew you would help me.”

  “Of course. Anything,” I said.

  “I hope you like adventure,” ABJ said.

  “We love adventure. Right, Payt?”

  “Love it,” she agreed. “But what does an adventure have to do with the money?”

  ABJ whispered, although I’m not sure why; no one except Grant was around to hear her. I mean, Margot wasn’t far away, but she was listening to a customer. “Like I said, the money is hidden. I need you to find it.”

  “Where’s it hidden?” I asked.

  “Somewhere in Hollywood.”

  7

  “Okay, but . . . where in Hollywood?” I asked.

  She took a piece of paper that looked like it had been folded and unfolded a million times out of the pocket of her long satin bathrobe, palmed it, and slid it over to me.

  I glanced at Margot, who still appeared to be involved with someone on the phone. I unfolded the paper. Once it had been square, but now the bottom right-hand quarter was missing.

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  Payton pointed to a doodle. “What does this mean?”

  “I can’t make out what it says,” I said.

  “Your handwriting is terrible,” Payton added.

  ABJ reached across the table and put a hand over each of our mouths. “Your mom wasn’t kidding about your chatty bat.”

  Grant, still completely focused on his handheld game said, “Chat back. They’re always like that. Annoying, isn’t it?”

  “Jeesh. Yes.” She pointed to the paper. “This is where I hid the money; I think. And, I think, my awards.”

  “You think?” I asked.

  “The problem is, sometimes I forget things. I think I left myself this clue to remind me where I hid it. Isn’t that what you would do if you were hiding your life’s savings?”

  I guess that made sense.

  “But you aren’t sure?” Payton asked.

  “Like eighty-nine percent sure.”

  “That leaves eleven percent,” I said.

  “That’s not much,” ABJ said. “Almost single digits.”

  “What awards?” Payton asked.

  Staring at his game, Grant answered, “ABJ won an award called an Oscar, and a few others, the Félix and the Julio. Julio is spelled with a J, but it’s pronounced like ‘who.’ Who-lio.”

  “Some of that is correct,” ABJ said, but didn’t elaborate. “I can’t find the awards and I can’t find the money. I know I took it out of the bank, because I was pretty sure they were stealing from me and I wanted to hide it, but I couldn’t decide where. Then I found that note.”

  “Stealing the money right out of your savings account?” I asked.

  “Can they do that?” Payton asked.

  “I don’t think they can, but I think they did,” ABJ said.

  “So you hid it? Like a pirate,” Payton confirmed.

  “Eighty-nine percent sure. And that’s where things get foggy.” She sighed. “If I don’t find it and pay the bank the money I owe them, I’m going to have to come to Delaware to live with you.”

  HOLD EVERYTHING.

  Margot finished her phone call, but I hardly noticed because I was focused on the bomb ABJ had just dropped.

  “Would you like something to drink?” Payton asked Margot. “¿ Agua?”

  “Sí. Gracias,” Margot said. She leaned over Grant’s shoulder to watch the play-by-play.

  Quick math: Our house has four people and three bedrooms. One of those people just got her own room. (It’s pink, by the way.) The nine years prior, she’d shared a room with an outer space oddball. But now she had her own girl cave. It was Dad’s former workroom. (Now he works in the garage, and parks in the driveway).

  If ABJ moved to Delaware, I knew which room would be hers.

  And I knew who’d be back in an interstellar nightmare, on the bottom bunk.

  Payton gave Margot a bottle of water from the fridge.

  No. No. No. That was not going to happen. I was going to do everything I could to help ABJ stay in her own home, which she clearly loved—in Hollywood.

  ABJ added, “I love you guys, but I don’t want to leave Hollywood. If I leave, and the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences can’t find me, I’ll never know if they want me to have a star on the Walk of Fame.”

  “They could find you in Delaware,” Payton suggested.

  “What if they don’t bother and just go on to the next person?”

  “Is that how it works?” I asked.

  “They have a list and go down it and find people?” Payton asked.

  “Are you on the list?” I asked.

  “Or maybe you have to apply,” Payton suggested.

  “Maybe there’s an interview,” I added.

  “Maybe an audition,” Payton said.

  “Maybe—”

  “Girls.” ABJ closed her eyes and put her hand on her head where she had the bump. “Please stop.”

  “Sorry,” we said.

  She opened her eyes and said, “All my stuff is here. This is my home.”

  8

  Payton and I grabbed our breakfast burritos. I was going to invite Margot to come upstairs with us, but she started pointing to Grant’s game and making noises like my dad makes when he’s watching football. She seemed like she was having fun, and it would be a shame to disturb her.

  We spread out on one of the twin beds and studied the paper that was worn from being handled. On the top left corner there was clearly a big block letter D with an arrow pointing to something that would’ve been on the section that was missing. Then there were thirteen—like straight lines on a hangman game—across from left to right. The last dash was darker than the others.

  O
n the bottom left corner there were a bunch of tick marks with slashes through them. They reminded me of little bales of hay.

  Then at the bottom right corner it said:

  Hidden in a famous place that few know.

  They look at it, but don’t see.

  Payton asked, “How can it be famous, but few people know?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe a famous place, but a part of it that no one goes to? You know how you go to museum or something and there’s a piece of art that no one looks at?” I asked.

  “I went to a wax museum in London, Madame something, and there was a whole room of historical figures,” Payton said. “No one even went in. Everyone wanted to get their picture taken with the wax celebrities.”

  “Wouldn’t you?” I asked.

  “I know. Right?”

  I took the first bite of my breakfast from the Burrito Taxi. The receptors on my tongue got a clear message that was sent to my brain—spicy, eggy, cheesy, warm, and shockingly good.

  I swallowed. “There’s a wax museum here. Maybe we should try it.”

  Payton took a bite, and without swallowing said, “Feels like a needle in a haystack.”

  I pointed to the paper. “But we have a D. Maybe a wax figure with the name starting with a D. Or a middle initial D,” she said. “Maybe this arrow was to a drawing of someone—a face.”

  “Now you’re thinking,” Payton flipped open her MacBook. “I’ll make a list of wax people we should look at.” She licked her fingers before typing.

  “How would they hide money, though? And an award?” I grabbed a tortilla chip that came with our breakfast. Speaking of delicious, Hello, chips.

  “The award could be ABJ’s actual award, but people think it’s wax. Like, it could be hidden in plain sight—People look at it, but don’t see,” Payton said. “And the money?”

  “That’s harder. Maybe the wax figure isn’t solid—”

  “Like a hollow chocolate Easter Bunny,” Payton interrupted.

  “And it’s stuffed with money,” I finished.

  Payton paused from her typing and took another bite while I chipped both hands.

  Why don’t I have chips for breakfast at home? I thought.

  “I already have some names. Snoop Dogg, Judy Garland as Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz, Robert Downey Jr. as Tony Stark from Iron Man, Dwayne Johnson, and more.”

  “Dorothy carries a big basket. And I think maybe a suitcase too. They could be full of money.” I started getting excited.

  “Or wax,” Payton said.

  “More likely it’s wax, right?”

  “Right,” she said.

  “But things are not always how you expect. I thought these burritos would taste like the back of a banana car. But they’re great,” I said. “Maybe the best I’ve ever had.”

  “I know. Right?” Payton said. “And these chips. You think he has a deep fryer in the trunk?”

  “He’s got something in there.”

  “What else could be a famous D?” Payton asked.

  “There are all those stars’ names in the sidewalk. The Walk of Fame. Tons of names there.”

  “Good one.” She typed a note. Grease shined off the laptop’s keys.

  “Or it’s not a name. Maybe it’s a place,” I said. “Like . . .” I asked my phone for a list of famous places in Hollywood. “The Dolby Theatre. Don’t know what that is, but it’s famous and a D. The Museum of Death—”

  “Eeew,” Payton said.

  “Yeah. Let’s skip that one.” I tried to get some of the grease and salt from the chips off my hands.

  “The Hollywood sign?” I asked about what I saw Payton typing. “There’s hardly a D in that at all.”

  “Um, it’s the last letter. Without it, it would be Hollywoo.” Then she added, “And it’s kind of a major landmark.”

  “Fine. Add it.” Then I leaned over to review the list.

  Madame Tussauds Wax Museum

  Walk of Fame

  The Dolby Theatre

  Rodeo Drive

  The Hollywood sign

  The Museum of Death

  I looked at the list. “It’s going to be a busy week.”

  “It’s not even a full week. That gives us today, tomorrow, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.”

  “One hundred and twenty hours,” I said.

  “To find a buried treasure in a big city,” Payton said. “And to make the winning project for the Science Olympics.”

  “We can do it,” I said.

  “I know. Right?”

  “If we don’t—”

  Payton shut her eyes. “I don’t even want to think about losing to the DeMarcos.”

  “Me either. But it’s not just the Olympics. If we don’t find the treasure, I’ll have to move back in with a freakazoid Captain of the Universe wannabe.”

  “None of us wants that to happen,” Payton said.

  “Ya think?”

  Payton looked at her empty burrito wrapper. “Think Leo and Margot have more in the trunk?”

  9

  “That burrito was amazing,” Payton said to Leo. Margot was on another call. She was serious about helping Leo while she was off of school.

  “Thanks. My breakfast burrito business has been growing like crazy. In fact, I have a bunch of orders Margot just took. Thank goodness she speaks Spanish.”

  I asked, “Do you think you could drop us off at the wax museum?”

  “As long as it’s okay with your mom.”

  “I already texted her. It is.”

  “Just let me know when you’re ready to go.” He took ABJ’s coffee cup to the kitchen.

  Once he was far enough away, ABJ looked up from the game of Uno that she and Grant were playing and whispered, “You figured it out? It’s at the wax museum?!”

  “They’re really smart,” Grant said.

  “Awww. That was such a nice thing to say, Grant,” Payton said.

  “Too bad that they’re ugly,” he added.

  “And there it is,” I said. “You walked right into that, Payt.” To ABJ I said, “We didn’t figure it out. With that chunk of paper missing, this is gonna be tough, but we have a couple of ideas and”—I looked at the countdown app I put on my phone—“one hundred and twenty hours to figure it out.”

  “Of course that time is split with the Science Olympics project,” Payton said.

  “Does the wax museum sound like somewhere you would hide money?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. I mean, I’ve been there. . . .”

  I looked at the app. “No time to waste, we’ll check it out.”

  “Okay. Good luck.” She looked out at the view of the valley that was the glitz and glamour of Hollywood. “It doesn’t snow in Delaware, does it?”

  Ugh. My beloved bedroom.

  “Let’s not think snowy thoughts just yet,” I said. “Oh, and I don’t think we should tell Mom and Dad about the whole ‘hidden’ thing.”

  “Okay. That’s what I was thinking too,” she said.

  “And don’t you go blabbering,” I said Grant. “In fact, just forget that you know.”

  “Forgetting is easy,” Grant said. “Remembering is hard.” He played a card that meant ABJ lost a turn and right away he played a second card. “But I would be sure to forget if you were to, say, bring me something from the wax museum.”

  I sighed. I could’ve argued with him. But sometimes giving in was easier.

  “Like what?”

  “Oh, gee, let me think.” He tapped his chin like he was thinking, but I knew he wasn’t. “Wax! Stupid!”

  “Fine.”

  “In that case, my lips are sealed, unless the question comes from my people.” Grant looked up when he said, “my people” referring to his real family who lived on another planet, maybe another galaxy, who knows.

  I asked ABJ, “Are we telling Leo?”

  “Not yet. I think.”

  As if on cue, Margot clicked off her call. “¿Vámonos?”

  “Vámon
os,” Payton repeated.

  Margot led the way and Payton whispered to me, “I think I’ve used all the Spanish words I know.”

  We three went to the foyer, where Leo waited. “Is ABJ okay to stay alone?” I asked.

  “Sure. She’s home alone every day. Never goes out. Always waiting for the phone to ring—someone to call about a part. But no one ever calls and there aren’t any parts.”

  “She went out when she fell down and hit her head,” Payton said.

  “That’s why it was so strange, she never does that. I don’t even know how she got there. She didn’t drive herself; the Caddy was in the garage.”

  “She mentioned she was reading a script,” I said. “Could that be a new part?”

  “She’s been reading that same script for six years,” he said. “I think she ripped it out of one of her entertainment rags.”

  “Rags?” Payton asked.

  “Magazines,” he explained. “People call entertainment magazines rags.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Don’t know. Don’t care. And don’t care,” he said again. He laughed at himself. Seems like he liked to say things in groups of three. In this case, he couldn’t come up with a third, so he recycled. And, he thought that was funny. “Anyway, I stop in between deliveries and we have these.” He pulled a device as big and clunky as a Bunsen burner out of one of the side pockets of his cargo shorts. “It’s a long-range walkie-talkie. She has one too.”

  “Doesn’t she believe in cell phones?” Payton asked.

  “She’s not a fan of technology.” He went back to the breakfast room. “I’m on channel ten,” he said to ABJ, then added, “If you’re up for it, Sue had her heart set on a tour of the stars’ homes.”

  “This house used to be on that tour.” ABJ pouted.

  I felt badly for her. “It was probably a pain not to have privacy,” I suggested

  “And all that traffic,” Payton said.

  “Traffic is the worst,” ABJ replied.

  “And the noise,” Payton added.

  “I do like things quiet, but it’s been too quiet,” ABJ said.

  Leo said, “I’ll bet these girls can change that, right, ladies?”

  “Totally,” I said.

  “Just wait till tonight,” Payton said, “when we start on the Science Olympics project. We’ll turn up the music and make a mess.”